Chapter Text
You emerge...bloody, burned, and triumphant. Your mission to the House of Hope has been, despite the odds, a roaring success.
First, you scoured through holy tomes to give yourself an idea of what you would be up against. Then, you made a deal with Helsik in the Devil’s Fee to create a two-way portal to the House of Hope and procured disguises. Lastly, you used the Orb of Infernal Envisioning at the Devil’s Den to ensure that Raphael would not be home.
Once, as you used the orb, you saw Raphael sipping from a goblet of blood red wine. He smiled as he caught your eye... Could he see you? Your body flushed in a wave of heat as you quickly stepped away from the orb. You definitely did not go to the House of Hope on that day.
Eventually you had gallivanted into the decadent infernal palace with ease. You snooped and interacted with the cursed denizens. You had paladin training, and could guess what you were going to see, but the reality of encountering centuries’ worth of wailing souls and bound servants was overwhelming. You had made an oath of vengeance against the undead, but even the vilest lich you had fought seemed tame in comparison to the devils of the hells. And Raphael was merely a cambion... Half human . Zariel, Karlach’s former master, must be even worse.
The torture and despair was staggering. You get angry.
And so you rifled through Raphael’s journals, destroyed his contract with Mol, and even...(and you are not proud of this) slept with his incubus.
Prior to this place, you had found Raphael charming. Despite knowing better, you almost looked forward to your interactions with him. You knew it was all a game, you had read enough books to know better than to fall for his theatrics, and yet...
Your experience largely dealt with the undead, and they were not nearly so... charismatic .
But now, now you know better. Now you know he was playing you from the start. Haarlep readily spilled the secrets that deep down, you already knew.
Raphael was never interested in you. He is in love with himself.
You find yourself grateful that you had the opportunity to release any residual desires with Haarlep. The act and post-coital pillow talk was cathartic, and now you have no hesitation. Despite past feelings for the cambion, you are going to fight him. And win.
So when you stole the Orphic hammer (and the gauntlets Helsik requested, and even an amulet for good measure!), freed Hope, and got intercepted at the exit portal by Raphael himself you were determined to succeed.
Raphael had emerged in a flash of gold by the portal, and recited some monologue you ignored. When he was finished, you leveraged your own persuasive nature to convince his Orthon to fight with you. The Orthon agreed, and lumbered next to Hope’s side.
You then waited to hurl one final insult before the battle began.
“If you have any last words,” Raphael eventually drawled, looking bored, “Make it quick. It will only take a moment to finish you.”
You saw your chance.
You smiled. “That is twice as long as Haarlep said it takes to finish you.”
Raphael easily took the bait. His face twisted into a knot of fury.
“You contemptuous creature!”
And thus the battle began.
***
Helsik is pleased to see you as you limp down the stairs.
“Trips to the Hells are usually one way,” she declares. “Especially when the traveler causes the trouble you did.” She smiles. “I knew you were a thief. I did not know you were a killer.”
The atrocities at the House of Hope flash through your mind. Damned right.
Helsik shrugs, and her eyes twinkle. She almost looks proud of you. She continues. “Raphael’s death is already causing quite a stir across the Hells. It is rare for a mortal to slay a devil of his stature.”
You smile and perhaps stand a little taller. You hand over the gauntlets Helsik requested, and make towards the exit.
You stop at the threshold, and turn around.
Helsik has left her counter, and has ventured upstairs to close the portal.
You turn to your companions. “Wait here,” you instruct.
“What are you up to, soldier?” Karlach asks suspiciously. The tiefling is clearly anxious to be done with this infernal business.
You smile. “No more thievery, I promise.”
You return one more time to the Orb of Infernal Envisioning.
You touch it.
Within the crystal, you see Raphael, broken and bloody...dangling above the maw of Mephistopheles who is preparing to devour him.
Your gasp and nearly fall backwards.
***
As your companions celebrate the hard fought battle with Raphael at Sharess’ Caress, the image you saw within the Orb Infernal Envisioning plays again and again in your mind.
Despite everything you witnessed at the House of Hope...you feel....guilty.
“Are you alright?”
You turn to see Wyll’s handsome face downturned in a frown. The Warlock had sold his soul in exchange for his father’s life. He knows Arvernus. He knows Devils.
You sense the vague tethers of a plan braiding together. Perhaps Wyll is the right person to confide your thoughts to.
You quickly usher him into a room. Wyll obediently follows you. You know your companions will gossip about this in the morning, but you do not have time to worry about that right now.
You close the door.
Wyll is clearly a little nervous and confused. “What do you need?” He asks innocently.
You peer deep into his good eye, now crimson red thanks to his patron.
You interlock your hands together, and for a moment your eyes glaze over in thought.
“I have an idea,” you admit.
Wyll takes a step back, unsure. You wonder if he thinks you wish to bed him. You cut quickly to the chase. “I think I may know of a way to free you from your contract, and save Karlach from Zariel. But it will be risky. Extremely risky.”
Wyll shivers. “...What?”
You assess Wyll for a moment in silence. Then you speak plainly.
“It involves rescuing Raphael.”